The dark shadows under my eyes tell their story. The uncombed, thinning strands of hair and week-long stubble matches my grey mood.
The reflection wasn’t always this way.
I force a smile as I remember the once handsome young man struggling with an unruly bow-tie as the Prom limo pulled up with Becky inside; fight back tears as I briefly see the proud father with a sleeping infant in his arms.
Out in the hallway hushed voices are gathering. Becky gently pushes open the bathroom door and takes my hand.
‘Come on honey, they’re about to start reading her will.’
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.